


The Kings-Men

by kingsmanpointssouth



Category: Kingsman (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Also James enjoys helping with candidate trials, It's brief mentions though, James can't seem to die and these are his adventures, M/M, Not all of this is James' POV, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, mutants verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-14 18:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsmanpointssouth/pseuds/kingsmanpointssouth
Summary: Mutants have been around since the dawn of time, but were usually killed if they were found. James had never considered that he might be a mutant and only learned he was one after joining the Navy and setting sail for the Caribbean. The more he learns about his powers, the more he knows he needs to escape and get out of harms way. This story will follow James as he travels and makes his way into Kingsman and what happens once he joins.





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s a boy” the midwife announces as James is born in 1703. The Norrington’s have been part of the English aristocracy for over two hundred years, with all of the family’s land and money entrusted entrusted to the first son of the first son. As the second son, James will grow up in luxury, yet inherit nothing. For this reason, James decides to join the Royal British Navy since he has no ties keeping him to the land as his brother does.

When James is granted the rank of Lieutenant at age 17, his family is proud. Their eldest son George is doing well in his grooming to take over as head of the estate, and their second son is being promoted in the navy, and is well on his way to gaining more prestige for the family name.

Before his ship sails off to the Caribbean, James goes to visit his family since he will be traveling to the Caribbean for a few years. His mother is tearing up as he says his goodbyes, while his father pulls him aside to say, “I’m proud of you, son.”

James smiles and replies, “I will make sure to honor the family name while I am away.”

“That’s all I can ask of you.”

As he watches England fade into the distance, James is looking forward to being stationed at Port Royal.

After a week and a half on the ship, the crew had eaten most of the fresh fruit. There were still some oranges though, so James grabbed one and sat down to start slicing it. As he was slicing through the rind, the ship hit a huge wave, causing the knife to slice open his thumb.

James didn’t think much about it when it starts to bleed a little bit, he had just cut it after all. He simply grabbed the handkerchief from his pocket with his free hand to stop the bleeding. It wouldn’t do to get blood all over his shirt.

Just as he went to press the handkerchief down on the wound, he was shocked to see it healing before his eyes, leaving only a few drops of blood on his skin where the cut used to be.

Panicking, James looked around him to see if anyone had seen this happen, but thankfully no one was around. He let out a sigh of relief. People with mutations were seen as an abomination of nature, and anyone that has these ungodly abilities or is thought to have them is killed, and death is something that James is just not ready for. Regardless, it is alarming to know that he had developed an ability sometime recently, as most people with abilities discovered them young and were either killed or were able to hide their mutation from society. He did not know what they meant for him.

James fell asleep that night with the memories of his family discussing mutants seeping their way into his dreams. How his father had once told him that, “Mutants are unholy, disgusting creatures that are not worthy of living among the rest of mankind. They deserve to die, it is both God and the King’s will.” Even though his father and family loved him, he would never be accepted, never like this. He knew that he would have to hide this ability from everyone to avoid not only death by the Crown, but also ostracization from his family.

The next day, James was very careful to make sure nothing happened that could hurt him. No one will notice he has abilities if his body does not need to heal itself, and therefore he just needs make sure that anything he does will not cause him physical harm.

That night, he decided to sneak into a storeroom with a lantern and test his new healing ability. James did not know the limitations of his healing, and it would be important if he got into a fight to know what he could and could not heal from.

He starts with slicing his thumb again, and when that healed just as before, he decided to move on to larger and deeper cuts on his arms, torso, and legs. He needed to make sure it was his whole body that could heal and not just his arms. After an hour of cutting himself open, James learned that he could apparently heal from any cut he received with both his knife and sword. He washed the blood that covered his body from where if had oozed out of his cuts before the wound healed itself, and tossed the bloody rag overboard so no one could find it and question where all the blood had come from.

It was also that night that James realized that he had joined the wrong profession. If he had just become a lawyer or judge instead, he would not need to worry about being outed as a mutant. But being in the navy, there was almost no way to hide his abilities if he got into a fight, and being stationed at a port known for being attacked by pirates, it was unlikely he was going to be able to avoid fighting.

To hide his ability, James decided that he needed to become the best fighter on the ship. No, the best fighter in the entire British Navy. If he never got hit with a sword, knife, or bullet, then his body never needed to heal, and he wouldn’t be outed as a mutant.

It was not unusual for a crew member to want to use wooden swords to practice while at sea, since if they did accidentally get cut, the medical attention they would receive would be poor since they were so far from shore, and infection could easily lead to an early death. This was perfect for James.

While he always ensured that his usual lieutenant duties were fulfilled, James quickly gained a reputation among the crew for being the one to go to if they needed a partner to spar with. He was a good opponent, and had done well in training. He was always looking to improve his fighting skills though, and the crew members knew it. By the time they reached Port Royal a month and a half later, James was the best swordsman on the ship, and was willing to fight with a real sword in sparring. He stepped of the ship with a newfound confident in his skill to fight without worrying about getting hit by his opponent’s sword, even if his style of fighting contained more defensive maneuvers than the others. Sometimes, the best offence was a good defense.

Once they got to Port Royal, James decided he needed to improve his knife and shooting skills next. Knife fighting was easy to practice on the ship, but he also wanted to work on his aim for knife throwing. It was a lot easier when there were trees to practice throwing at rather than damaging the ship. Shooting is also easier with a steady supply of bullets and actual targets.

Port Royal also offered more people to practice sword fighting with. James was pleased to find that there were some soldiers stationed at the port that were much better swordsman than those that were on the ship with him. It was not too difficult to track down these men; James’s reputation as the best swordsman on the ship he came in on preceded him, and people wanted to see just how good he was.

Spars started off with his opponent testing James’ skills, but they quickly realized that he was as good as people were saying. His sword fights became a way for soldiers to make a quick buck gambling on him. They almost never bet against him, but instead ended up betting on how many times he would win before his opponent gave up for the day.

While James knew people were betting on his fights, he really did not care. He was improving, he was not getting hurt, and the more people that saw him fight without getting hurt, the more believable it would be if he walked out of a fight with no injuries on him.

\- - -

After ten years, James had worked his way up to the position of Commodore of the Royal Navy. His family had recently sent a letter letting them know just how pleased they were with him. James smiled at that, glad that they were doing well in his absence and pleased with the knowledge that his brother had just had his second child.

Since his arrival at Port Royal, he had been able to avoid getting noticeable hurt, playing off people seeing him injured as though they were seeing things.

What was concerning to him though was that the soldiers around him were starting to form wrinkles and laughter lines, brought on by living at sea for great lengths of time while his face remained smooth when he looked in the mirror.

\- - -

As a navy admiral, James had to do something drastic. It was 1738, he was unscarred, and looked to be ten years younger than he truly was. He was not aging, and people were starting to say things. He had heard whispers of everything from envy to disbelief spreading around the port.

“He looks like he’s in his early twenties, not mid thirties. I think he’s lying about his age, snuck into the navy when he was too young.”

“I wish I still looked that good, I’d get every lady from here to Tortuga, ain’t that right mate?”

“He doesn’t do anything besides practice sword fighting and commanding people; doesn’t do any real work. Why else do ya think he would look so young?”

The more of these whispers he heard, the more paranoid James became. Then one day he overheard two soldiers talking at a bar that really scared him.

“Do ya think he’s one of them mutants? He ain’t aging, and something about him never really sat right with me.”

“Nah mate, he’s just a lucky bloke. Have ya ever seen a real mutant in person?”

“I mean, well, no, but he could be!”

“I think ya just need to lay of the rum a bit. Come on, let’s go.”

James had never considered that his healing ability would stop him from aging and keep him looking as though he was only 25. Even if he just sat in his office thinking about what he had heard, he couldn’t hide forever, and that scared him. He couldn’t stay here, and couldn’t go home either. If anyone found out he would be hunted down and killed, or at the very least they would attempt to kill him. There were horrors that plagued his mind about if that happened. Would they imprison him if they couldn’t kill him? Leave him locked up in some dungeon? Or would they bury him alive, leaving his to choke on dirt, or throw him out to sea only to drown?

These thoughts kept him up at night, and his fear of them coming true lead him to start forming a plan to fake his own death. He wouldn’t be tracked down if everyone thought he was dead, and if he escaped he would just need to go somewhere no one knew who he was.

At the local tavern, he had heard that some pirates were due to make landfall soon, and he decided to use that information to his advantage. Even if it was suspected he was not aging, no one knew he couldn’t be hurt, that he couldn’t die.

So when the pirates arrived, he was waiting for them at the docks with his men. The pirates sent their best sword fighter forward to combat James while the rest started to fight the British forces. After the fight went on about ten minutes with the pirate, James purposefully let his guard down as he turned, giving his opponent an opening to strike and praying that he took it. The pirate did not waste their chance, plunging their sword into James’ stomach. The pirates cheered as the soldiers stood in shock at seeing James Norrington defeated and killed.

The hardest part of his plan was playing the role of a dead body as the pirates continued to fight the British soldiers. It was after they finally left defeated that a few of his fellow soldiers came to collect the body of their fallen admiral.

They gave him a quick burial after spending the afternoon digging, and James was disgusted to see that they did not dig deeply into the earth for his grave. He was thankful for that though since it was easier to create room to breathe as he waited for night to come to crawl out of his grave and refill it, making it look as if he had never left.

It was pitch black when he slipped into the city to steal some clothes that were left out to dry. With a change in wardrobe and his body covered in dirt, he was almost unrecognizable as an Admiral of the Royal British Navy, and with nothing but the clothes on his back James set off to get aboard any ship leaving the island.

Talking his way onto a merchant ship was not hard, as James offered to work for his passage. Once the ship arrived, he was not sure what he would do, but he had time to think about as the ship slowly sailed its way to London.

Coming back to England was harder on James than he thought it would be. He was home, but couldn’t contact his family, couldn’t visit his brother’s family and see his new nephew. With no destination in mind, James boarded a boat to France, deciding to travel around and see what the rest of Europe had to offer.

With excellent swordsmanship skills, James found families looking for their sons to learn the art of the sword, and in return for tutoring them, gave James food, shelter, and sometimes a small pay while he taught them.

While never staying in the same place for more than a few months, James enjoyed teaching and sharing his skills. Also, the longer he stayed in France, the better his French skills got which made it easier to blend in. After a few years, his French was perfectly fluent, and his English accent almost nonexistent.

Just as he was heading out of a small village near Lyon after finishing up tutoring a young aristocrat, James was approached by the local blacksmith.

“Sir, before you leave, I want you to know that I have seen your ability with the sword, and I am very impressed. You wield it as though you were born sword in hand, and know exactly what to look for in a good sword since you helped the young master choose one most fitting of him. I wish to know if you would be interested in being my apprentice. You are a little older than I would usually take on, but young enough still. How old are you, boy?”

“I am twenty two,” James replies while thinking, _I am forty one_. “I am interested in becoming your apprentice, but I can only stay for a few years. I have not much money to offer you in return for learning your trade, but I can make sure your to keep your shop clean and your tools sharp.”

“I can agree to those terms. You have the ability to be great, and if you were to make your own swords, since you know what you need for different styles of fighting and different body types, then you could be a very successful blacksmith. I am glad to show you what I know, and pass down my knowledge to you. Bring your things to my shop, and we can get you settled in.”

James follow him back to the shop and introduces himself as Jaques Leblanc while the blacksmith introduces himself as Jean Moreau. Jean’s shop is neat and well kept, and James is looking forward to working with him. After six years though, James was ready to move on. He was sad to leave, as Jean had become almost like a second father to him. Jean had no family, no one to pass down his knowledge to but James, and because of that, Jean felt as though James was a son to him. Knowing he was leaving soon, James found a young boy in town who he thought would be suited to blacksmithing, knowing that Jean needed the help and company.

Their parting was sad, but Jean was glad that James was going to be able to go off and use his newfound blacksmithing skills.

“Jaques, it has been an honor teaching you for these last years. Promise to write and tell me about your adventures. And please, come visit.”

“I will write you monthly, Jean. I am glad to have spent this time with you, to know what you know. You have helped me grow these past years, and I am grateful. I will miss you greatly.”

With a hug, and tears in his eyes, James once again sets off. He will write Jean for the next twenty years as he travels around Europe telling him of his adventures. He helps at blacksmith shops that need workers, and teaches sword fighting when he can. James writes Jean for those twenty years until his replies stop coming. He never did go back to visit, since Jean would take notice that he had not aged a day since he left, but after the replies stopped, James made sure to go back to that small village and visit the grave of his mentor, of his second father.

At age sixty seven, James decides to go home to England. His parents have likely died, and his brother would be getting there if he had not passed away already. It took James a month to get back to the city he grew up in having been in East France at the time. After returning and asking around for George Norrington, James found out that he was on his deathbed.

James spent the night in the inn deciding if he should visit his brother. The next day, when he woke up, he had decided to see him, because at least if George said he saw his dead brother looking like he would have over forty years ago, people would just think he was delusional. George was the only one left in the family who knew him when he was ‘alive,’ so he did not need to be worried at being outed by any other family member.

James hid in a tree outside of George’s window, and waited until everyone else had left before sneaking in. He sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for George to notice him. When he did, his eyes opened wide.

“My God, I must be dying right now if I am seeing you brother. Have you come to take me away from this mortal plane?”

James had to keep himself from laughing, his brother had always had an even worse flair for dramatics than himself, and that was saying something. “George, I am so sorry I am just seeing you now after all these years. I have missed you greatly. You were always a wonderful brother, and were kind to me as a child. Tell me, has your life been fulfilling? What of your family?”

“I have missed you too, brother. I’ve had a good life, the land has been bountiful and our accounts are full. James, I just want you to know, my grandson was named after you. You gave your life fighting for King and Country, and my son wanted a name that showed the prestige and greatness that was possible from being a Norrington. Mother and Father were sad when they heard you had passed, but so proud, and so too was I. My children grew up hearing the stories of their brave Uncle James who fought Pirates and safeguarded the Colonies in the Caribbean. I’m glad I am able to see you again, brother.”

With that, George drew his last breath. James felt an emptiness grow inside of him to see one the last people who knew him as James Norrington die, but also a sense of guilty relief that no one had found out he was a mutant. He kissed his brother’s forehead and covered him with his sheets. Before leaving, he saw his sword from the Navy hung on the wall. _They must have sent it to my family along with the news that I had passed. It’s nice that they kept it._ He took it off the wall and grabbed the cash in the drawer. It was his money too he justified to himself, and his family still had such a large amount that they would not notice he had grabbed any. With that, James slipped out of the house to walk back into town. He would not look back at his family home for a very long time.

After visiting his parents grave and putting down some wildflowers, James decided he would leave England again, as there were just too many sad memories there at the moment. With money in his pocket and determination to go explore the world, James decided that he would go to the American Colonies. It would be a good change, a totally different experience, and would get him far from England.

James started heading for the port in London to get on one of the ships headed for the Colonies, but before leaving, he used some of his cash to buy a new suit before going to pay for his trip across the Atlantic. After getting his suit and finding a worker, he learned the next ship to leave was in three days, and was headed to Boston.

In Boston, James was able to get a job at a bookstore, and introduced himself as Jack Smith, a traveler looking for work. The owner appreciated that he was literate and could read and speak French. James’ job would be to help with the shelving along with translating the French works. James enjoyed this job, as it was intellectually stimulating and did not put him in any danger of outing himself as a mutant since the worst that could happen would be books falling onto his head.

Before going home from work one day, James headed to a bar. In the corner, he overheard two men talking about a different bar for ‘select’ clientele.

“Hey, so I was talkin’ to Paul down at the docks yesterday, and he’s talkin’ bout’ this bar only certain people have the ‘ability’ to get into, if ya know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. So where’s this place at then?”

“Supposed to be down by the docks. Ya go to the building with the blue circle on it, and behind it’s a door with three lines scratched into it. Ya do this special knock and then yer let in. It goes knock… knock-knock. That’s it.”

A underground bar for mutants. James felt very intrigued by the notion, to be able to go somewhere and be among people like him, people that have likely lived their whole lives in hiding too. And if he went and things went south, well, New York City always sounded like somewhere he would enjoy going to.

A week later, James stood outside of the door, feeling much more nervous than he thought he would. He had never revealed his true nature to anyone before, and was very apprehensive about doing so. Nonetheless, he knocked and waited for the door to open.

“Hey, you, yeah, what are ya here for?”

James put on his most charming smile and said, “I’m here to get a pint good sir. I heard that only certain people had the ability to get in here, and I believe I am one of those people.”

The guard looked unconvinced. “Prove it. Prove ya got the ability and I’ll let you right in.”

James was ready to run if needed, but nonetheless pulled out his knife and quickly sliced his palm before the guard could say anything about him pulling a knife. He held it up to show the wound healing itself.

The guard stepped aside after seeing James’ display and replied, “Well sir, please enjoy your time here.”

As soon as James walked in, he saw people openly using their abilities and different body types proudly on display with their coats and cover ups laid across chairs and stools. The bartender was floating drinks to people, and there was a man with the tail of a tiger and claws sitting in the corner. A dancing couple was made up of a woman with moving tattoos up and down her body, and a man with shining golden eyes.

For the first time in a long time, James felt comfortable, like he could be himself without facing any consequences. He went to go sit at the bar and bask in this feeling.  
Walking over, the bartender asked, “What can I get ya?”

“A pint of beer if you have it.”

“Sure thing. So yer from England huh? What brings ya here?”

“I am traveling, but currently have a job at a bookstore.”

The bartender nodded and floated him down his drink. “I’d say by the looks of it, you don’t interact with mutants that much.”

James smiled sheepishly and asked, “What gave me away?”

“Well, keep looking around and staring at people with obvious traits, and your mouth dropped a little when I gave ya your drink. So, what makes you special?”

James just smirked and pulled out his knife, once again cutting across his palm.

The bartender whistled, “Now that’s a good ability to have, never gotta worry ‘bout getting hurt.”

Wiping the blood off his hand James agreed with the bartender, “Yes, it does come in handy, but only when there is no one to see it happen. Also, I do still feel the pain as it happens, I just do not have to worry about dying from it or for the wound to be permanent”

James talked to the bartender for a while before heading home. They had talked about everything from mutants in the city to the rising political tensions between England and the Colonies. While James knew there were some issues, he did not realize just how deep the Colonists hatred of the English was becoming. He would have to watch his back a little more closely.

\- - -

Three years later after the Boston Tea Party, James decided it was once again time to move along. He spent some time in New York, before moving up to Canada where he could use both his English and French skills, and then finally making his way back to England in 1853.

James marveled at just how much England had changed in the last 150 years. There were so many more buildings in London, and there were factories everywhere. James decided that he had been away from home for long enough, it was time to go visit his family.

The family plot was still upkept well, though it had more graves than when he had last seen it, and the estate was still owned by the Norrington family. James picked some wildflowers as he walked through town and towards the graves of his parents and brother. As he stood in his family’s graveyard, it really hit him just how much time had gone by. All the family he had known was gone while he remained. He had made some friends over the years and during his travels, but most were long gone.

As the days went on, James became more and more depressed; his normally bright and cheery exterior giving way to the grief and sadness that had been building up for over a century. He got a cabin to rent near his hometown, but even being home and near his family did not help. The more time that went on, the more depressed he became. He had amassed a good amount of money and did not need to worry about work, and as a extrovert, James was suffering by keeping to himself, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to do anything about it.

By 1860, James had attempted to kill himself in every way he could think of. Each time, he healed, only succeeding in getting blood everywhere. His neck had been slit more times than he could count, and bullets were expelled by his body without his permission. This lead to his depression worsening since he could not even succeed in killing himself. He was stuck in the land of the living with no escape in sight.

This would last until one day something happened that helped him finally cope and pull him out of the longest depressive episode that he had experienced.

James was walking back from the market one summer day when he heard a scream for help. Running towards the sound, he found a boy struggling to swim in the river and saw the current dragging him under.

Dropping his food, James threw himself into the river and pulled out the boy. The boy was hacking up water, but would clearly live.

“Are you going to be alright? Here, would you like some food? I don’t have anything to dry you off, but some warm bread might help.”

“Thank you so much sir!”

James smiled and after quickly thinking of a new name for himself replied, “You are most welcome. I’m Jonathan Price, now tell me, what is your name?”

“James Norrington sir, but my friends call me Jimmy.”

James stood there in shock. _Of course I would rescue one of my relatives. Of course it would have to be one named after me._ He made a decision in that moment though, he would watch out for Jimmy, and make sure that he got him home safely.

After eating lunch, James walked to the estate he grew up with with Jimmy, introducing himself and letting his Aunt Clara know what had happened. She thanked him profusely after learning that he had saved her nephew from drowning.

“You must come in for tea.”

“No madam, I would not want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense, I want to hear all about the man that saved my nephew! Please, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll have the servants prepare some tea. Jimmy’s parents are away traveling, and I am here to watch him. He slipped out though, and apparently got himself into trouble.” She paused to glare at Jimmy before continuing, “Well, he’ll be in even more trouble when his parents hear of this.”

Jimmy has the decency to look ashamed, and ran off to his room while his aunt talked with James.

As she lead him through a tour of the estate after tea, a room of paintings caught his eye.

“Ah yes, these are the family portraits. They go back to the fifteen hundreds when our family first bought this estate.”

One painting in particular caught his eye, and James is very glad that his hair is grown out some and not as short it was in the painting of himself that he found himself looking at.

He remembers getting it painted and shipping it home to his parents for this room after becoming an admiral. They were so happy with it, and hung it in this room next to the portrait of his family.

Clara smiled and joined him in staring at himself. “I see you found the original James Norrington. He is actually the man that Jimmy is named after. The name has been in the family for generations, and started with him. He was an admiral in the Royal British Navy, and died after trying to protect the port he was stationed at from pirates. A shame he died so young, but he died with great honor, and the Norrington family often names their boys after him in the hopes that they will also live as honorable of a life, just as by brother did with Jimmy.”

James felt a sense of awe flood him that his family still remembers him and thinks so highly of him. It warms him in a way he has felt in years. While it doesn’t stop his sadness for all of the loss he has felt in his life, this thought is what keeps him going and allows him to get out of that dark fog when needed. It is an ember in the pit of darkness that had grown inside of him.

As the next seven years went on, the ember grew into a bright flame from visiting Jimmy and watching him grow, but James knows he has to move on before he Norrington’s notice that James is not aging.

Jimmy pleads with him to stay, asking “Why do you have to leave? You can stay here! We always have so much fun together. You are like an uncle to me. You even taught me how to use a sword!”

James feels his eyes well up, but even still he tells Jimmy, “It is my time to go. I’m off to London, and then to who knows where. I can not stay in one place my whole life, it’s not who I am. I love you too though, you are the nephew I never got to have. You have a bright future ahead of you Jimmy, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

As a parting gift, James left Jimmy one of the first swords that he made. “This is for you. May you never need to use it, but defend yourself and your family with it if necessary. It was one of the first I made, and and the one that I am the proudest of. Watch over it, and it will watch over you.”

After packing up the belongings he planned to take with him, James did go to London, but he never actually made it out of the city. As customary, he went to go buy a new suit before heading out into the world. As he was walking down Savile Row, James noticed a new tailor shop that had not been there the last time he was in London. Intrigued with the suits he saw in the window, James headed into Kingsman Tailors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an au that I've been thinking about for a while now, and I'm finally getting around to posting some of my writing for it. The rest of the main characters will come in eventually, so the whole fic won't be about just James, though he plays a large role in it. I'm also @kingsmanpointssouth on tumblr, so you can find me there. Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is finally getting involved with Kingsman, and now we get to see his jobs within Kingsman over the years.

The gentleman that greeted him from the behind the counter was very polite and quick to offer his assistance to James.

“What can I do for you today sir?”

“I’m looking for a new suit. I haven’t bought one in a while, and my older ones are terribly out of fashion.”

“Very good, why don’t you come here and we’ll pick out some fabrics for your suit. A dark brown suit would be in fashion right now, but I think a tan would better suit you and bring out the color in your hair.”

James excitedly replied, “Yes, I do think tan would look splendid! I also think that this emerald vest and tie would pair well, don’t you think? The green should bring out my eyes while at the same time not making my complection appear more pale than it already is.”

“You… you are correct sir. Tell me, how much do you know about suits?”

“I do find fashion very interesting, and can talk in great detail about how fashion has changed over the past hundred and fifty years.”

The man just nodded and moved onto taking James’ measurements. As he did this, both James and the tailor continued talking about the changes in fashion history before they had to leave. The tailor was so intrigued by James and his knowledge of fashion, that when he came back to pick up the suit a week later, he offered James a job.

“While you wouldn’t be making the suits, I think you would be a great consultant and be able to get people in the style and color that best suits them. This would also include manning the register. Would you be interested in this?”

James smiled and replied, “Yes, I think I would. I’ve never worked in a tailor shop before, and I think it will be very interesting and fun to work here.”

As it turns out the tailor, who James found out name was Henry, was also the owner of Kingsman. He had been a tailor for 30 years, and had opened up Kingsman Tailors 18 years ago in 1849. His family had been tailors for generations, but he was the first to open up a shop rather than just run the business out of his home since the industrial revolution forced it upon him. Luckily, even with the mass production of goods, the rich were always willing to pay just a little bit extra for the quality and experience that Kingsman provided.

James worked for two years as a consultant at Kingsman before Henry asked if he wanted to learn how to sew and to help make the suits now that he had a better understanding of what went into their production. James agreed and just like that he was an apprentice again.

James training went well, and he was able to pick up sewing easily. By 1880, he was helping Henry run the shop since he was getting older and just wanted to focus on making the suits. The longer he stayed at Kingsman the more he thought of leaving, but there was always some project to finish, some suit to be completed. He kept pushing off leaving, which was a mistake. James had stayed too long, and Henry had noticed.

After closing up shop one summer day, James was about to head out, but Henry stopped him.

“Jonathan, you’ve been here for thirteen years now. How old does that put you at?”

Doing his best to hide his discomfort at the question, James answered, “Thirty six, Henry.”

“Well now Jonathan, we’ve worked together a long time, so do you care to tell me old you really are?”

“What… what do you mean? I’m thirty six.”

James’ entire thought process halted. Someone knew. They knew he was lying about his age. Had called him out about it to his face, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. As soon as this conversation ended, James planned on going to quickly grab his things and run. If he could just make it to France, he’d be safe. Tensions are high in France right now anyway with the recent downfall of Napoleon.

“Be honest Jonathan, you have not aged a day since you walked through my door. There is not an age spot or wrinkle to be found on you. You’re hair has not thinned and there is not a single grey hair among them. You have not aged, so I will ask again, how old are you?”

Thinking through his options, truth seemed to win, followed by swiftly running out the door when Henry let his guard down. “I am one hundred and seventy-seven years old.”

Just before bolting out the door, Henry started to reply, and what he said gave James pause. “I am glad you shared that with me, Jonathan. So I will tell you something in return that only one other person knows about me. I too, am a mutant.”

James mouth opened in surprise as he stood in the doorway, his expression gobsmacked.

Henry ignored his reaction and moved towards him as he continued on, “I am the only tailor, aside from you as my apprentice of course, because I do not need several men to turn out the quantity of suits I make. I never have a late order because I have the ability make them at a speed not possible by a regular human. You have seen me ‘make’ suits, but never in a way that way. Come, I will show you.”

Not knowing how else to respond, James followed Henry into the back room and watched as he picked up a needle and some cut fabric. What followed was a blur to James’ eyes, and after few moments, a pair of perfectly bespoke trousers were laid out before his eyes.

“Wha… but… how?”

“Super speed my dear boy. Or is it old man?” He said as his lips quirked. “Now, please do not run off as I believe you probably planned. Take tonight to reflect and come back tomorrow. Now you know my secret, and I hope you find that proof enough that I will not reveal yours to anyone.”

With that, James went back to his flat in a daze. Another mutant, and it was someone he had known and worked alongside of all these years. He had never suspected either. He wouldn’t be outed, he was safe. Henry would keep his secret safe, just as he had with his for all of these years.

After heading to work the next day, mind full of questions, Henry patiently answered them in between customers and consultations. After the day had come to a close, Henry finally started continue their conversation from the previous day on whether James would stay or not.

“James, while I do not have an issue with you being a mutant, there is still a problem here, and that is that your looks have not changed since you stepped through my door. Now, what we can do is change your name in my books to something else. That way you can continue to work here legally without any ramifications. Working with customers will be different though. Soon they might start to notice, even though most do not come here that often. When they are here you will need to do more work out back. I will handle consultations and fittings. I know it is not ideal, but I hope that it gives you reason to remain here.”

“That will work just fine for me. This time I think I would like the name of James Taylor. Taylor because I work at a tailor shop, but James because I was born James Norrington, and I would like to hear my real name be used again. I think that it will help me feel, well, feel more like me. You know who I am and the abilities I possess, so you deserve to know and use my real name.”

Henry agreed that it was a good choice and thanked James for trusting him with that information. He got out his books and wrote that Jonathan Price left his shop a few months ago, and he recently hired James Taylor as his replacement.

After twenty two more years go by, Henry dies at age 85. James takes his leave of the shop, as it goes to Henry’s next of kin, who is a nephew James had never met. The next twelve years are spent traveling around the United Kingdom, exploring all that the lands had to offer and visiting different locations he had heard of and wanted to visit. As the years go on though, Europe is becoming more and more unstable, and on June 28, 1914, Franz Ferdinand is shot.

When England enters the war, so too does James. He had given it a lot of thought, and at his age it would be strange if he was not joining up to go fight in the war. It would be a quick war, and James had years of fighting experience and tactical knowledge under his belt from his time in the Navy.

After standard Army training and with the ability to speak French, a newly recruited James Spencer was promoted to the rank of Captain and sent off with his company of 60 men. James knew that he would be going near the German border, but was not overly concerned.

Once there in the trenches though, James knew that he should have been more concerned. Trench life was terrible; they lived in the trenches flooded by water and rats. Disease was killing off men in James’ company faster than the Germans were.

While James did not get ill, watching his men die while he could do nothing was a torture. It was sad and depressing, and there was nothing he could do for his men while they withered away. After a few months stuck in the trenches, James’ men were down to 27 from the original 60. It was a quiet day on the front and Daniel, one of the privates in his company and first friend in the army, approached James. Daniel had always thought that Captain Spencer was a very approachable man and later a friend that he could confide in.

“Captain, what do you think about the war? We were supposed to have been home by Christmas, and now it’s May. This war is so different than the one’s our fathers fought in, I just don’t know how we’re going to win.”

James frowned as he told Daniel what he really thought of the war. “I agree with you that this war is unlike any other that I’ve seen or heard of. These weapons are made for destruction, not gentlemanly fighting. War’s used to be an honorable fight, but this, this is just murder. The Germans, the French, the British, the Austro-Hungarians; we’re all just trying to completely obliterate the other side into submission. Where is the honor in that? And these new weapons, tanks, machine guns, submarines; they’re destroying lives and families faster than ever before. I long for the days of sword fighting and pistols. When your ability to win a fight was based on your skills rather than if an enemy sniper has spotted you or if you get caught in fire of a machine gun. Daniel, it used to be so different, so honorable. This though, this is just an atrocity and a waste of lives.”

Daniel laughs as he say, “You make it seem like you’ve been in other wars Captain.”

James doesn’t respond, just hums and goes back to writing in his journal.

“Go grab some dinner private, and enjoy it. You never know when the next resupply will be.”

Daniel begins to stand and just as he does, a grenade lands next to them.

“Wait Daniel what are y-” but it was too late, Daniel had already jumped onto the grenade. And in less than two seconds, James’ first friend in the army was gone.

James was propelled backwards by the force of the explosion and covered in the blood and flesh of his friend. He sat stunned for a moment, the rest of his men looking at him in shock. After ten seconds James came back to himself and proceeded to break. The anger of not aging and watching his men die every day had weighed heavily on James, had pushed him close to his breaking point. Losing Daniel in such a horrific and gruesome manner pushed him over.

With an unearthly scream, James grabbed the closest rifle to him and his trench knife, a knife with brass knuckles on the handle, and vaulted up into no mans land. His men were screaming at him to come back, but James couldn’t hear them over the blood pounding in his ears.

The Germans noticed quickly that someone was on no mans land and started firing. The British soldiers could only look on as their Captain waded through the bullets towards the German trenches. They could see him getting hit, but it did not slow down James’ march. The Germans were shouting to fire more, but it made no difference as he walked towards them firing his rifle at anyone he could.

Once James rifle ran out of bullets, he threw it to the side and leapt into the trench. The Germans were quick to try and rush James and stab him to death, but James had spent years honing his close combat skills with both the knife and his sword. More and more Germans fell to his blade, and James did not stop until the entire German company laid slaughtered before him but for one man.

The German had dropped his knife and with fear in his eyes asked, “What… what are you?”

As James slashed his throat he replied, “An affront to humanity.”

After killing this last soldier, James sunk to his knees. _What have I done, my god what have I done._

Twenty minutes after James had left, the British soldiers finally heard silence coming from the German side. They watched in amazement and horror as James walked back across no mans land towards them, uniform in tatters from both bullet holes and knife rips.

“What you saw here today never happened. You all made a great effort at breaking into the German trench during the night and killing them all utilizing close range tactics. Move the front towards Germany, and good luck.”

With that, James walks off, his soldiers looking too shocked to say anything, let alone tell him to come back and explain himself and what had just happened.

With a final look back, James headed off towards the closest village to steal some clothes, food, and money before going into hiding until after this war finished.

After waiting for the war to end, James made his way back to England in 1919. It was unlikely he would run into anyone from his army days, as so many of them had died in the war, and if he did, well, he would just deny their accusations and go into hiding again.

While sitting in a small cafe and enjoying a cup of tea and reading the paper, James was surprised when a man sat down across from him.

“James Spencer?”

“Yes? And you are…?”

“You can call me Arthur. I’ve heard about you James. I was told that you were able to single-handedly take down a company of German soldiers and walked away no worse for wear. So tell me, is that true?”

The more this man talked, the more panicked James became. By the end, James was hurrying out the door and making sure that the man wasn’t following him. He had made it halfway down the street before the man appeared next to him and asked. “Why are you running? Is it because it’s true?” At this James broke into a full sprint and ran towards his flat. If he could just get there he grab his things and quickly leave London.

When he made it to his door, the man, Arthur, was leaning up against the door frame.

“Are you done running now? I take it from your need to escape my presence that the stories I heard were true.”

“So what if they are true, what are you going to do? Turn me in? I know you must hate mutants, but let me leave and I will not bother you again. Please just go, I’ve done nothing wrong. I just want to be left alone.”

“Left alone? Turned in? James, I am not here to do either of those things. I’ve heard about your abilities, and I have a job proposition for you.”

“What do you mean? How do I know that you’re not lying to me, waiting until my back is turned to hand me over to the police?”

Exasperated, Arthur replied, “If I had wanted to turn you over to the police I would have just given them an anonymous tip; you know that’s all it would have taken for them to come and interrogate you and send you off to one of those dreadful mutant asylums. Why on earth would I go to the trouble of tracking you down if I intended to do that? No, I just want to talk. Please, hear me out, and if you want me to go away after and never hear from me again, then I will do so.”

James was extremely hesitant, but let Arthur in his door. After he left the apartment he could just up and leave anyway; safer to give this man what he wants for now.

As they sat at his kitchen table, James indicated to Arthur to start talking. “Now James, you did not let me finish introducing myself at the cafe. I do believe you knew my Uncle Henry, he ran Kingsman tailors? Now after he passed away, the business fell into my hands. I have never had the training to be a tailor, but he had run a very successful business as you know. Now when I went about looking to rehire some apprentices he had trained, I stumbled across your name. Like most of the others, you had all enlisted and gone into the war, but you, you had stories that came with you name. Tales of an impossible feat of braving the bullets in no mans land and killing all of the Germans in the opposing trench. That, James, is why I wanted to talk to you.”

Arthur took a deep breath and continued, “While less than one million Brits were lost in the war, there was a huge number of aristocratic members of English society lost, as they had went to war looking for glory and assuming that it would be a quick and glorious little war. With their deaths, a lot of money has gone uninherited, old family lines with no heirs and no possibilities of creating more heirs. That is when I had the idea of creating a secret intelligence agency; outside of the political and bureaucratic boundaries that currently exist within government run intelligence agencies. This way, people and the greater good can be protected without them ever even knowing that they were in harms way to begin with. A way to make life safer for future generations.”

“The best way to go about this is to use members of society have certain traits and abilities that would benefit a spy, but would not be accepted into another government agency. With these abilities along with training both military and otherwise, we can take down those that regular human authorities could never combat in addition to average criminals. James, as a mutant who seems as though he might have the ability to not get hurt, you would make an ideal agent who could go into the most dangerous of situations, and we would not worry about you getting harmed. Now, I know this is a lot to think about, but, if you are interested, please come to Kingsman Tailors sometime within the next week. I hope to see you soon.”

With that, Arthur left, and James sat at his kitchen table for the next hour just processing all of the information Arthur had told him. The idea appealed to him, but James still did not know if Arthur could be trusted. He claimed to be Henry’s nephew, but offered no proof of his relation.

\- - -

After thinking about the offer for five days, James found himself in front of Kingsman once more. He spotted Arthur behind the counter talking to a customer, and walked in. Spotting James, Arthur signaled to a young man to come finish up with the customer.

“James! I see that you’ve decided to come and discuss your decision. Please, follow me to the out back, you know the way.”

After going to the back room and sitting, James spoke. “I like the idea of protecting people. I always have. During my lifetime, I have been part of the service to protect those that call Britain home. But, Arthur, I do not know if I can trust you. What can you offer me in the way of trust? You claim to know me, my abilities, but offer no reason of how? So. Why. Should. I. Trust. You?”

Trying to placate him, Arthur responded, “James, as I assume you are aware, Uncle Henry was a mutant.” Seeing James’ head nod in acknowledgement, he continued. “So mutants apparently run in the family. Didn’t you wonder at how I caught up to you so quickly on the street? How I was waiting for you at your front door even though you sprinted your way back? James, you can trust me because like you, am a mutant, and there is no reason for me to trick you.”

As soon as Arthur had finished speaking, he disappeared. James sat there in confusion at where he went until he heard heard Arthur’s voice behind him.

“Wondering how I did that? Well my friend, that is the beauty of teleportation. I can not go long distances, just about a street block or two, but teleporting in quick succession is a fast way to travel.”

James sat there stunned. Another mutant. The last ones he had come into contact with besides Henry had been some of his friends from the bar in America. After getting back to England, James had not gone looking for other mutants, but apparently he didn’t have to since they had found him.

“Now then James, knowing this, are you interested in joining a mutant intelligence agency? In joining Kingsman?”

James paused before answering, “Yes Arthur, I think I am.”

What Arthur had failed to mention in his discussions with James was that he was the first person that Arthur was able to find and get to agree to be a part of his agency.

“Come on James, I could use your help convincing others to join. Now, some have been apprehensive at socializing with other mutants and revealing themselves, but I think with your help, we can do it!”

After five months, James and Arthur were able to get nine other mutants to agree to come join them. As this was going on, Arthur contracted people to expand the shop, and to renovate his estate out in the country that he inherited from the other side of his family. Once all eleven members were present for a meeting, Arthur began to explain his grand plan to each of them.

“We will do our best to protect our countrymen and women; to help try and avoid another war like the one we have just seen. Our powers can be used for the greater good. We may still live in hiding out there, but I want all of you to feel safe here. I have done everything possible to ensure absolute secrecy and discretion when it comes to using your abilities. There is no one around for miles near the estate, so please be yourselves and practice using your abilities while there. Another point I’d like to bring up is codenames. We need to have some way to refer to each other when in the field so as we do not have any problems arise should a bystander hear our given name. It will also make it more difficult to get linked back to Kingsman, since it will be our cover story. As of right now, you all work in my tailor shop. Most of your ‘jobs’ include traveling and purchasing fabrics from around the world, so as it will not look suspicious if you are constantly in and out of the country. Now, do any of you have an idea for a codename system? Please feel free to speak your minds about this.”

After a few moments of thinking, the man diagonal to James spoke up. “What about the knights of the round table. They were the most trusted men of the king, the kingsmen if you will. Also, they had a King Arthur, and so too could we.”

Arthur thought for a moment, and smiled. “I think that’s a marvelous idea. Yes, yes it will work just fine. We are gentlemen, the knights of the round table. The Kingsman. So, I will ask that you name yourselves. We will go in order of those of you that joined this agency, this round table.”

As the first, James did not get too much time to think about his choice, but in growing up, he always enjoyed the stories of Sir Lancelot the most. After going around the table, there was an Arthur and nine of his loyal knights: Lancelot, Galahad, Percival, Bors, Gawaine, Kay, Tristan, Beaumains, and Bedivere. When they got to the last member though, he wanted to take on a different name and role.

“I want to be part of this agency, but I think I would be better suited to research and design of weapons along with mission planning and coordination. When I was in the army, that was my job, not that of a field agent. I feel like that is where my skills would best lie. For that reason, I want to take on the name of Merlin, the wizard. Or, in this case, the tech wizard since that was my army nickname.”

Arthur immediately agreed, “That is a great idea, and I am glad you are already thinking how best to use your skills within the agency. We all have skills beyond our mutant abilities, and we need to use both in tandem with each other to ensure we are doing the best we can to take down criminals and keep the world safe.”

\- - -

As the years went on, more people were hired to work in the inner departments of transportation, R&D, and handling. The amount of field agents remained at ten, though Arthur rarely went on mission since he was in charge of financing and the political aspects of Kingsman. The prerequisite to being offered a job within Kingsman remained that one had to be mutant to join. This ensured that there would be no anti-mutant sentiment within the agency, and that members would not need to be concerned with the new hires outing them to the government since they would out the accuser.

Eight years after the start of the agency in 1927, there was a major problem. Agent Tristan had died in the field and they needed to replace him. The agents had different ideas about what to do to replace him, and were all brought together to vote.

After hours of debating back and forth, it was decided that they would not just bring people in like before and have them go on missions and learn in the field. There would be a training session held that tested a candidate chosen by each member of the table, and would go on until there was only one candidate left who would replace the old member of the table. It was decided that Merlin would take care of the training of the agents, as he lived on site at the estate. The estate also had enough room to test candidates without alerting the public to so many mutants being gathered in one area.

To test the commitment of the candidates and show them that what they were doing was dangerous, they would have one young member of an inner department go ‘undercover’ as a candidate and ‘die.’ Since the true number of field agents would not be revealed to them, the candidates would not know that there were too many of them.

After deciding this, Arthur had one more idea he wanted to share with the table. “I do not think one undercover agent within the group of candidates is enough. James, I would like for you to also pose as a candidate as well.”

“Me? But why?”

“Agent Lancelot, as most here at this table know, you do not age. You will fit in with the candidates very well, as the rest of us are now middle aged, and most candidates being chosen will likely be on the young side. It will also give us the ability to tell how the respond to having a member in the group whose skills are so far beyond their’s. Will they give up? Or will they strive to improve as fast as they can? I think it is important that we know that, and you being there will also allow Merlin to see a direct comparison to an active agent in the tests. You do a great job on your missions, but I hope you understand that it is vital to this organization that we select the best of the best and ensure that they receive adequate training that will prepare them for becoming a field agent. Do you agree to this?”

“Yes Arthur, I agree.”

“Very good. When the candidates are chosen, we will tell them that they are competing for the position of ‘Lancelot’ as the previous one passed away in the line of duty. After they complete training, we can reveal that James is actually Lancelot and inform them of the actual title that they will be taking. Lastly, I think that any candidate who shows promise but fails out of training should be offered to come work in our inner departments. It is tough to find reliable mutants with the skills we need, and I believe this is a great way of doing so. Now we vote; all in favor?”

Every agent said, “I.”

“Very good. Now you all have two weeks to find and choose a candidate. Good luck.”

And so the years went. Sometimes James would be called back to central for help with the training of agents, but there were usually years between his times spent as a ‘candidate.’ He always acted surprised when the other Kingsman member ‘died’ during the flooding of the dorms, and chose a puppy.

For this reason, James always has 1-2 dogs under his care at any time. It’s nice having a companion though, someone who misses you when you go away, and having a dog in his life is a nice constant after living by himself for so long. He tended to stick with large hounds, such as the Irish and Russian Wolfhounds. They were good breeds and loyal. Also, it was nice to have a warm body to cuddle with on cold nights.

The depression of the 30’s goes by without causing any real damage to Kingsman, since it is so heavily funded by cash rather than just investments. WWII is hard though.

The agents help with the war behind the scenes rather than on the front lines, and their families believe that they did not sign up to enter the war. This looked shameful for the agents, but in reality they knew they were better off and truly helping protect their country by participating in missions centered around the war rather than being on the front lines.

The Cold War was interesting, as everyone in the country had begun to panic about if the US and Russia would really unleash nuclear bomb and destroy half the world in doing so, including the Kingsman. Everything was so uncertain, but nevertheless, they went on missions doing what they hoped would help stop the launch of nuclear weapons on the world.

By the mid 1960’s, the last of the original knights were gone. Most had died, though two of them had retired and given up the spy life taking their well earned pensions and moved; Bedivere to the countryside while Gawaine decided to travel and actually visit the places that he had missions in. Regardless, it was still saddening to James that once again he was outliving his friends, and also people that he had come to think of as his family. For the first time, he had people that he could trust and completely be himself, mutant and proud.

The mantle of Arthur was passed on by voting in a knight worthy of the title, and worthy of heading the organization. Many of the knights wanted James to take the position, but he declined. Having one person who could never leave the position was a bad idea, and besides, being in the field and helping with training is fun. Endless paperwork and meetings on the other hand, not so much. James had always felt himself a man of action. He had been in two branches of the British military, and loved to travel. Being confined to an office for the foreseeable future was not an ideal lifestyle for him.

Merlin was actually the last to go, the man clinging to the position until illness had taken it from him. The training for the position of Merlin was actually the most difficult. When the first Merlin decided to take on an apprentice, they were chosen from the regular knight candidates when it was shown that one candidate had not only an aptitude for field work if necessary, but were able to think outside of the box to complete the challenges Merlin tasked them and had skills that Merlin believed would suit them in the position of the Kingsman wizard.

During this time, civil rights had come to a forefront of society, and it was inescapable. By the 1960’s it was mutant rights that were being fought for. They demanded the end of mutant discrimination and wanted to be recognized as people who would no longer be arrested for being themselves and to ensure the end of mutant asylums where they were so often thrown to be experimented on.

Over the years at Kingsman, one of the main goals was destroying these asylums and getting the mutants trapped in them to safety. There were different locations set up around the country to house older mutants who were not able to go out on their own and needed to be reintroduced to society. For younger mutants, Kingsman often paired with Xavier’s School for Gifted Children in America to take them on and help them learn to use their powers.

For James, the rapid advancements in technology were the hardest things to wrap his head around. Some days he just longed for his sword and a simple pistol rather than these new computers and high powered rifles. But phones were wonderful, he could easily get in contact with central and get mission updates rather than doing everything on his own.

Early in 1985, James was just finishing up a mission in Italy when Merlin told him that when he came back that he would need to stick around for another round of candidate training. James was actually not too surprised, it had been years since the last one and a couple of agents were getting close to retiring age.

It was in the middle of February that James found himself in a room of nine other candidates. He did not pick one since that would be biased, but there was also the undercover Kingsman employee, so it rounded out evenly at ten.

James took in the men standing around him, most of whom seemed the average pick for Kingsman agents; coming from money and with a mutation that was not visible to the eye. Not that Kingsman had any issue with that, but it was a huge drawback in the field and prevented agents from blending into a crowd. Therefore, any mutants with obvious traits worked for the inner departments.

After a few moments, Merlin cleared his throat and asked, “Can anyone tell me what this is?”

James never bothered to answer this questions and was always interested to see how the candidates reacted to it. Immediately, a candidate with a Scottish accent spoke up from behind James. “It’s a body bag, sir.”

_A Scot hmm. That will be interesting. I wonder who put him up as their candidate._

“That’s correct…” “Hamish MacLeod.” “Very good. So as your fellow candidate has informed us, this is a body bag. We need you to know that this is a very dangerous job interview, and that you can die. If you are not interested, leave now. If you are, put the names of your closest relatives on the bag. Also, while you are here, you will not use your abilities against each other. Showing what you can do is acceptable, but if it is found out that you used them against a fellow candidate, you will be removed from the premises immediately. Dinner is at 6:30 sharp, don’t be late.”

With that, Merlin left, allowing the candidates to get themselves sorted in the dorm. James quickly went to the bed he usually chose, the one nearest the showers, and waited for someone to either approach him or to just listen to what the others were saying. A lot of it was not nice, and James was not pleased as he overheard two of the others whispering.

“Can you believe it. Honestly, a Scot? Who would have chosen him?”

“He looks like he crawled out of the gutter this morning.”

“Ha, there’s nothing to worry about with him. He’ll be one of the first gone, I’m sure of it.”

\- - -

Harry Hart was never one to be intimidated. It never worked on him since he could tell when people were bluffing or not. So when Merlin told them to write their families names on the body bag, he knew he was being serious and that it was not a joke. While he had expected someone to answer Merlin’s question, Harry didn’t expect the deep Scottish brogue that answered it to bring his brain to a full stop.

He turned around and looked at who had spoken, a somewhat lanky man with soft black hair. While turned around, he looked at the rest of the competition and tried to get a feel for them. Some were scared by Merlin’s speech, while others remained impassive about it. One candidate that was standing near him was bored, which while strange, was likely due to a long travel before arrival at the estate.

Merlin may have said not to use their abilities against each other, but when your ability is empathetic manipulation, it’s hard to not subconsciously always be reading the room. Harry decided that he would just have to try not to manipulate the others emotions on accident. He had become very good at preventing that over the years, but he still slipped every once and a while.

After Merlin had left, Harry began his own form of assessing his competitors. Trying to figure out who was strong both mentally and physically that would be his main rivals. This stopped immediately when he heard two of the others whispering about how they couldn’t believe that a Scot was chosen and how terrible it would be to live with him. Harry is not usually quick to anger, but this set him off.

He walked over and calmly let them know that, “While we are here to compete for this job, do I need remind you that we are all part of a minority here. We are part of a group that only recently gained the right not to be taken by the government for just existing and thrown into asylums for testing. Yes some of us may have been born silver spoon in hand, but that is no excuse for your pitiful behavior towards your fellow competitor. We were chosen because an agent thought that we had the potential to make the world a better place and work towards giving mutants a better place in society.”

Harry moved closer until he was in his face and continued, “And if I hear one more disrespectful comment out of you about the bloody birth country of our fellow candidate, who has likely had to deal with more prejudice than the rest of us put together, well, I won’t even need my powers for the beating that I’ll give you.”

With that, Harry walked over to the corner of the room and sat down on the bed in between the one Hamish and the bored candidate had chosen.

“Ya know, I can defend myself,” Hamish said as soon as Harry came over.

As Harry sat he replied, “I know, but unfortunately I don’t think they would have cared. At least now they know two of us are against them.”

Harry smiled and held out his hand. “Harry Hart.”

“Hamish MacLeod. You seem alright Harry, for an Englishman that is.”

Harry laughed and replied, “I think we’re going to be good friends, Hamish.” Turning to the other man who had been watching this all play out, Harry went in for a handshake. “Harry Hart, and you are?”

“James Spencer. Good to meet you. Glad you told those two off, they seem like they’ll be a real pain.”

“Right you are. Now, I don’t mean to sound too rude, but what abilities do you two have? I haven’t really interacted with mutants much since my family is firmly against them. Mine is one I can’t really show you since Merlin forbid it. It’s empathetic manipulation. Essentially I can read a room and see what people are feeling, and also change their feelings if I want.”

Hamish’s eyebrows raised as he said, “That’s very useful, especially for spy work. Now mine, I can show.”

Harry and James then watched as a sweater from Harry’s bag floated into Hamish’s hands. “Telekinesis. It’s helpful when I’m working on projects or too lazy to go and get food from the fridge,” he grinned.

Finally, Harry and Hamish both watched as James held up a finger for them to wait as he grabbed a knife from his bag. “Wait-” Harry started and held up a hand to stop James as he sliced his palm open. Even though he knew he was a mutant, Harry still watched in shock and amazement as the wound healed itself before his and Hamish’s eyes.

Hamish laughed and said, “Well, that’s quite the game changer isn’t it. Don’t even know why they want the rest of us trying out when there’s someone like you who can’t even get hurt.”

James frowned and replied, “I think they probably want to test us on our abilities beyond what we have as mutants. I could be terrible with weapons or espionage, and my ability means nothing if I can’t accomplish the mission to begin with.”

As their conversation continued, it grew closer to dinner and they had to leave. Little did they know though, that this day would begin a long friendship between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all self beta'd, but I try my best to make sure there's no spelling/grammar mistakes. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The candidate trials for Galahad continue and Harry and Hamish learn something surprising about James.

Growing up, Hamish love technology. Taking it apart, laying it out in front of him where he could see all of the parts, and then reassembling it.

When he was 10, he was in the middle of laying out some of the parts of a radio on his desk. He picked up a semiconductor and closed his eyes as he realized that had slipped right through his fingers. After a few seconds he was confused that he never heard a crash. It was floating an inch from the ground, safely intact.

When had first learned of his powers, Hamish knew that he couldn’t let anyone find out that he had them. Especially his parents who thought mutants were disgusting creatures unworthy of life. They were also the kind of people that could be counted on to have a bottle in hand the second they walked through the door, if not as they were walking through it. So telling them was a definite no go.

Over the years he had gotten good at avoiding the empty bottle thrown at him when he didn’t listen, defied his parents, or sometimes just existed. At age 16 though, Hamish couldn’t avoid the whisky bottle that was thrown at his face. He threw his arm up to block the bottle, but it never hit. When he opened his eyes and peaked out behind his arm, Hamish saw the liquor bottle floating inches from his face and an astonished look in his mother’s eyes.

It did not take her long to start screaming at him, throwing obscenities left and right. “You vile, pathetic excuse for a human being. No, no, not even a human being. You are an abomination of nature. You don’t deserve to live you disgusting sack of shit. Get the fuck out of here, and don’t even think about coming back. What are you waiting for you monster, I said Get. The. Fuck. _Out!_ ”

Hamish was crying as he ran out, flinging the door open with his telekinesis. As he cried in a park, he tried to figure out what he was going to do now with no money, no house, and no friends. He had never before regretted his solitary nature, but now he had no one to go to, no one to help him. His parents may have been horrible, abusive people, but at least living with them gave him somewhere to sleep.

He had not felt love for his parents in years, but he was still in school, still needed somewhere to live. But now he couldn’t go back, couldn’t risk having his parents tell the school that he was a mutant and get arrested. He was thankful that he didn’t have a noticeable mutation like some though, it would only put him in a worse position.

Trying to pull himself together, Hamish headed towards the center of Glasgow. If he could find a job, he could make some money and put as much distance between himself and his parents as he could.

It would take him the next year and a half to accomplish this, saving up money as he lived in a run down flat. In that time, he had taken a general education degree test so that he could get into college one day when he finally saved up enough money.

With his hard-earned money in hand, Hamish got on a train headed for London. At the very least he would have a good recommendation from the construction crew he had worked for in Glasgow, and London was an expanding city so finding a job wouldn’t be too hard.

After arriving in London and getting a job and another shitty apartment, his new boss said that he should see what scholarship opportunities colleges offered for people like him. Hamish immediately knew he meant poor but smart, but decided taking his advice was better than getting into an argument with an Englishman about being an embodiment of the poor Scottish stereotype.

After some research, Hamish discovered that he should be able to get a full scholarship from the University of London. It may not have been his first choice, but it was better than not going to college.

By age 21, he had graduated with a masters in technology after flying through his courses. His classes barely challenged him mentally, but were difficult in the sense that he was working construction along with going to his night courses.

Since he had learned he could make objects levitate, Hamish built up his skills, learning to move larger and denser objects when he had a break between work and classes. It was around this time that he also figured out that he could make himself levitate and fly around, though it did take a lot of effort and concentration. It had given him quite the fright when he had rolled out of bed, but didn’t end up falling on his face. After that, he began practicing making himself float and fly around his flat. He may have fallen a lot in the beginning, but no one needed to know that but him.

When a Kingsman agent came knocking at his door he had thought it was the police finally coming after him. But when the man who called himself Bedivere explained that he had heard about Hamish’s talents and seen how he flew through his classes wanted to offer him a job. Well, Hamish wasn’t about to say no. It intrigued him and would be a great use of his mental and physical strengths. Besides it sounded a lot better than working construction.

After listening to Merlin’s introduction, and passive aggressively writing his parents names on the body bag, he wasn’t surprised to hear other candidates talking shit about him. At this point he just ignored what people had to say since it never really changed. Always something along the lines of how he was a poor Scot, unworthy of anything. Honestly if they were going to insult him they should get some new material.

What did surprise him though was one of the other candidates sticking up for him. That had never happened before, and it was quite the shock. Then, making friends, even if they were other candidates, well, that was beyond his wildest dreams.

Harry and James seemed to like him for who he is, and didn’t think lesser of him for embodying a stereotype. They wanted to be friends with Hamish MacLeod, and that filled his heart in a way it had not been since he was a child.

He hadn’t realized how terrible it was to live without friends and people that cared about you since he had never known that in the first place, and now that he had it, well, Hamish wasn’t about to just let them go. At the very least, he would somehow make sure they all got to the final three, because Hamish couldn’t stand letting his heart be broken if his new friends were sent away anytime soon.

For now though, their friendship was a luxury, and as they ate dinner and settled down for sleep, Hamish was more thankful for that than anything else in his life.

After a long first day at Kingsman, Harry did not expect to be woken up only a few hours after going to bed by screams and finding himself covered in water. He tried to stay calm as he listened to Hamish explaining to stick the shower tube into the urinal and use that to breathe.

Harry grabbed James and quickly followed Hamish over to the showers to begin the process. As soon as the room was filled, Harry was immensely thankful for Hamish’s knowledge of physics. After what seemed to be a few minutes the water drained from the room while the other candidates sat on the ground gasping for air.

After there was no more than a few puddles left, Merlin walked in. “Hamish, you did good to recognize that the shower tube going around the bend in the urinal will grant you access to an air supply. But, every single one of you still failed. What you failed to do was work as a team. Look at what happened to one of your fellow candidates; not a single one of you went back to make sure everyone had made it to the breathing devices.”

Harry was immediately overridden with a huge sense of guilt, and watched as the rest of the candidates projected the same emotions in varying amounts. Weirdly enough, apart from Merlin, James was not feeling very remorseful. He had a sad look on his face for sure, but his emotions read bored and impatient, like he was merely inconvenienced by what had just happened. Harry thought he was usually a pretty good judge of people based on their first meetings, but it seemed maybe he was wrong with James; that it was possible he only cared about himself and getting the position rather than the loss of life that they had all done nothing to prevent.

Merlin continued on, “I’m disappointed with the lot of you. Change and go to bed, I’ll see you all at 8am.”

The next day was not what Harry had thought it would be like. He expected some kind of tactical training. Instead he listened to Merlin explain that they would choose a puppy to train along with them.

Harry had always loved dogs and the unconditional love they showed people. He watched as his fellow candidates chose large, working class dogs including Merlin who chose a great dane and James chose a doberman. When Harry walked over though, his heart melted at a sad little pair of eyes that belonged to a cairn terrier.

As soon as they went to go run with their dogs, Harry had barely said, “Now come along Mr. Pickle” before Hamish and James were keeled over sputtering at his choice in dog and name.

Hamish was the first to catch his breath but was still laughing when he said, “Really Harry? First you pick the smallest dog there, and then you name him Mr. Pickle of all things? What on earth are you thinking?”

“But just look at his little eyes! So full of love and trust, how could I say no to that face?”

James was actually the one to get them back on track by reminding them that, “We need to get a move on, everyone else has gone ahead of us.”

For the next month, they all worked on getting their physical strength up along with studying for a comprehensive knowledge exam that spanned subject matters from math and science to languages and history.

Nine candidates still remained, with only the one who had died leaving. Merlin was serious when he informed them that there would be at least two of them kicked out for having the lowest exam score, with the possibility of more if others performed exceptionally poor.

They each had to choose two languages to study as a part of the general knowledge that they did not already know. Harry, Hamish and James all chose German so they could practice with each other. Harry’s second language he chose was Italian, while Hamish chose Arabic and James chose Russian. Harry understood why they chose them, but he could worry about learning a language with a different alphabet after he became an agent thank you very much.

After passing the exam, Merlin told two of the candidates to collect their things. Unfortunately, Harry would still have to put up with the two that had made fun of Hamish on the first day which was not ideal. He was pleased when the next exam of sniper shooting got rid of one of them, making it harder for the other to speak up without the other candidate to back him up. His stay would not last much longer though.

After the skydiving mission, it came down to three candidates. Harry, Hamish, and James.

“Congratulations on making it this far gentlemen. As of right now, you will be going into the field. Your job is seduce this man, Carl Lyons” Merlin explained showing them a photo of a balding man in his mid forties. “Not all of the targets you will need to seduce will be beautiful young women. Here you will be tested on what to do in a unusual and possibly uncomfortable situation for you.”

Now, Harry had known he was bi his whole life, though he never advertised the fact. He had come out as bisexual to his parents before coming out as a mutant. They were both loving and accepting of these newly learned aspects of their son, and told him as much. Harry had always been grateful knowing that most others never experienced the kind of love his parents held for him, especially after coming out to them.

He was interested in how Hamish would respond though. They had gotten close over the past few months, and Harry was hoping that he wasn’t the only one between the two of them that noticed a spark there. He never made a move though because there was only room for one of them here, and he didn’t want to break his own heart by falling for someone only to watch them leave.

Harry had also been growing more and more suspicious of James as of late. He seemed to be hiding something, always having an emotion that usually didn’t correspond to the situation when they were in training. Harry did not like that about him, and he hoped that he wouldn’t be homophobic and repulsed by the mission, but reading his aura as neutral, Harry figured that he likely did not really care. _Good, because I don’t want someone I consider a friend to be a homophobic asshole, even if he is hiding something._

\- - -

James knew that using a man as the person they would need to go after was more a study in how they reacted to the variety in seduction missions. Arthur may be homophobic, but even he understood the importance of having agents do their jobs in the easiest way possible. If that meant seducing a man for work, then it just would not be talked about in any further detail after they completed their debriefing of the missions.

James himself really did not care one way or the other. After all these years, he had yet to find himself actually wanting to get involved in any kind of romantic relationship. No one had stood out to him in that regard, and after learning he would not age, well, it would only be a hardship on his partner and himself. James shook off these thoughts as he walked into the club.

Per usual, they did not stay in the club very long, as Harry and Hamish both unthinkingly drank their drugged drinks shortly after arriving.

After they were knocked out, James left with the other agents who had come to help collect their bodies, and headed to the underground to watch the train test. By saying he went first, James never actually had to pretend to do this test, and he wasn’t about to complain as he watched both Harry and Merlin. After seeing their tests, he was unsurprised but still pleased that they had kept Kingsman’s secrets.

Once they left, Merlin let them know that, “From this point, you will have 24 hours to spend with your sponsors. They will be showing you Kingsman’s more extensive resources and technology, and work with you to help learn to use you powers in a way that would benefit you in the field.”

For James, this meant a day to himself waiting to hear if they shot their dogs. If neither shot them or they both did, they would all be going out into the field and seeing who performed better. If only one of them shot the dog, then they would instantly be given the ‘Lancelot’ position and then promptly explained to that James was actually Lancelot and that the title they would be receiving would be Agent Galahad.

Hamish was up first, and while watching the live feed of the test, James was not surprised to see him refuse to shoot the dog.

Hamish’s brogue was thick as he shouted, “I think not! You want me to shoot my friend? The most loyal dog I’ve ever had? Nae, I won’t do it. This job ain’t worth that. I won’t lose one of my first friends.”

What did surprise James was to see him shoot a small statuette of a dog on the mantel. Regardless, Arthur was pleased to tell him, “Interesting choice, but you have still failed.”

He had never outright said it, but James knew that he didn’t really like Hamish since he was a Scot, but even Arthur still was able to respect that he was both highly intelligent and motivated.

Harry did end up ‘shooting’ his dog though, and James went to go get Hamish so that Merlin could ‘dismiss’ them and bring Harry up to speed as the next agent Galahad.

Merlin, Arthur and Harry were waiting as they walked in, and James and Hamish fell in line with Harry as they waited for Merlin or Arthur to speak up.

Arthur started off stating, “Congratulations Harry, as neither Hamish nor James shot their dog, you are the next Kingsman agent.”

James had never actually been put in that situation of having to shoot his dog, but that wasn’t important. He smiled widely when Merlin stepped forward after Arthur had spoken to offer Hamish a job at Kingsman.

“Hamish, we do not advertise this to the candidates, but if any of them do well in our eyes but fail somewhere along the way to becoming an agent, we still offer them a place at Kingsman. One of the departments that we have is an extensive tech department that works on weapon designs and upgrades. The other department is handlers who help guide missions along with doing research for them so that our agents go in fully prepared. Does working in either of these departments sound like something that would interest you?”

Hamish smiled, and said, “Yes, yes it does interest me. Thank you.”

“Good. Between us, your intelligence is far beyond most of the people that work in the internal departments. You have a lot of potential Hamish, and I would like to train you as my apprentice. If you agree, you will be given the codename ‘Emrys.’”

“I would be honored.”

“Very good. Now, since you both will be working here, I’ll turn the floor over to James, who I’m sure would love to explain a few things to you.”

Harry and Hamish exchanged confused looks, but nonetheless gave their attention to James.

“Both of you have done incredibly well to get here. As you know, Kingsman is made up entirely of mutants, and was founded in 1919. Well, I was there the day it was founded. My abilities extend beyond just rapid healing and regeneration. I have stopped aging all together. Therefore, when these trials were invented to recruit new members, I was implemented as an undercover member to directly show how candidates stacked up to a full agent. My codename is actually Lancelot, we just tell everyone that so that it is the position they are going for because it is easier that way. Harry, your codename will actually be Agent Galahad, as he is the one that died. Also, the candidate that ‘died’ is actually a member of our R&D department. They were a test to see how you would all react.”

Harry was the first to respond, Hamish still in a state of shock. “Wow. That is a lot of information. This does explain why you always seemed so bored or neutral to the tests and the death of the candidate. You’ve been through this so many times that while others were experiencing surprise you always knew what was coming next.”

“Yes. And I knew about your power and figured that boredom and nonchalance was the best way to go. It may have made me seem indifferent, but would not give away my undercover position.”

Hamish frowned and finally spoke up, asking, “James, you said you were there for the founding of Kingsman. How old are you though?”

“I was born in 1703, which puts me at 282 years old this year.”

“Isn’t that depressing though? Seeing everyone you know die?”

James face turned somber as he responded, “That, my friend, is a conversation for another time. For now, go collect your things, and someone will show you your new rooms,” and walked off.

Dismissed, Harry and Hamish went to collect their belongings, both happy that they would be staying at Kingsman, but sad that their friend had walked off in such a depressed state. They decided that they wouldn’t bring up James’ age again until James wanted to discuss it with them.

But between being assigned missions and learning to work in R&D, that was a conversation that would not happen for a long, long time.

\- - -

For two years, Hamish has been known as Emrys. Being an apprentice to Merlin is not easy task, but now Hamish had spent time working in R&D, with handling the agents, and shadowing Merlin directly.

While working in R&D, he had come up with the idea of glasses that would allow handlers to see exactly what the agents were seeing rather than just relying on audio from earpieces and descriptions from the agents. Merlin was immensely pleased with his invention when he came out with a prototype, and after being tested thoroughly, they were now a mandatory part of the Kingsman uniform. Merlin had told him that it was one of the best inventions Kingsman had ever had, and Hamish still carried the pride and happiness from that compliment with him.

A year later, he was sitting at his desk walking Harry through a job in Naples where he was attempting to break up a drug ring.

“Alright Galahad, there is a room two doors down on your left where there are five men sitting at a table. I’d advise that you make a diversion that will draw them out and split them up.”

“Copy that Emrys.”

Harry threw a rock down the hall, and when two of the criminals came out to investigate, he shot them with his silenced pistol. After walking over the bodies and crouching behind a shelf, Harry waited for the other member to come out.

Once they did, one of them noticed him immediately. Harry leapt out and began shooting, his cover blown, and the men proceed to start screaming and shooting back. Harry was able to take all of them down, but not before Hamish began talking to him again.

“Galahad, there’s reinforcements coming, toss a grenade into that room, that’s where the drugs are. After that run like hell and get to the docks. Once you’re there, there should be a car with a driver waiting to pick you up and take you to the airport.”

Harry laughed and replied, “Sounds good, maybe I’ll even be back at central for dinner,” knowing that Hamish would be rolling his eyes at his desk.

Everything seemed like it was going well, up until Harry got out to the docks and found his driver dead in the car and the docks swarmed with armed men.

“Fuck, Emrys, what’s the plan?”

“Take out as many as you can, run to the car, and get the hell out. You got this Galahad, you’ve made it out of worse.”

Hamish watched as Harry took a deep breath and started running towards the car. Everything was going well until he opened the door, and one of the men on the ground got two shots in Harry before he could close the door.

“Galahad! Status!”

“Two shots, I’m losing a lot of blood, Hamish.”

Hearing Harry break and use his name alarmed him. “Ok Harry, the airport is five minutes away. There are medically trained people on the plane. Just get there, ok? Please, just make it.”

For Hamish, those were the longest five minutes of his life. He saw as Harry’s head bobbed from blood loss as he got closer and closer to passing out. The moment the medic ran out from the plane and dragged him on was a huge relief. He had almost lost Harry, his best friend, all because he didn’t realize that the drug ring was bigger than originally thought and had reinforcements stationed outside the facility.

By the time Harry made it back a few hours later and was put in the medical wing, he was in rough shape. Hamish quickly tracked down Morgana to figure out just how Harry was doing.

“Harry isn’t doing great right now. The first bullet went through without an issue. The second on nicked his left lung though, and has made breathing for him more difficult. He is on a lot of pain medication, and should hopefully wake up in the next few days.” Morgana put her hand on his shoulder and smiled as she continued, “Hamish, he should make a full recovery, it’ll just take time. You’re welcome to sit with him and visit.”

Hamish let out a sigh of relief. Harry would be ok. He went to sit down, and waited. And waited. And finally after three days Harry woke up.

Relief flooded Hamish as he said, “Hey Harry, how are you feeling? You got shot remember? You on some heavy pain meds right now, but Morgana says you should recover just fine.”

“‘Mish? Hamish. You’re here. You lo-. You loo-.” Harry let a a frustrated huff. “Beautiful.”

Hamish felt heat run down his neck at that. “H-Harry? Come off it yeah? Yer all doped up, ye don’t mean it.” He could feel his brogue thickening as he spoke, as it always did when he was nervous or flustered.

Harry pouted before responding, “‘Course I do. You, you are here. My beautiful Hamish. I love you.”

With that Harry fell back into the temptation of sleep, and Hamish proceeded to start having a panic attack.

_There’s no way he means that. No. Harry’s perfect, but there’s no way he would want me. Not like that. No, he’s just on a lot of medication. That’s it. There’s just no way, no matter how much I want it to be true. We’re just friends. That’s all._

Hamish knew he would have to bring up this later with Harry, because as much as he wanted to ignore it and hope Harry didn’t remember, there was a voice inside of him that said he should. That he had to know if it was true. That said, _please, please let it be true._

A week later, when Harry was finally off the heavy duty pain meds, Hamish carefully broached the subject. He just had to know. It was eating away at him.

“Harry, do you, do you remember what you said to me when you first woke up?”

“No. Why? Did I say something embarrassing? Please tell me I didn’t,” Harry said hiding his face in his hands.

“No, but ye did tell me I was beautiful.”

“Oh! Well, that’s not as bad as I was expecting. I thought I might have said something silly like ‘I love you,’” Harry said while laughing nervously.

Hamish’s world ground to a halt. It was everything that he had been afraid of coming true. Harry didn't love him, and even worse thought it was silly.

Without saying anything, he left Harry’s room, headed to his office, and cried.

\- - -

Harry hadn't meant to say that, but it had slipped out. He had actually remembered what he said, but thought it would be a reassurance to Hamish if he had said something along those lines, but apparently all it did was cause him to close himself off from his friend.

Hamish never came back to visit him, and after another week when he was healed up enough to leave, the first thing Harry went to do was try to find Hamish to explain himself.

When he knocked on Hamish’s door and was beckoned in, Hamish looked up and frowned.

“What can I do for you Harry?”

“Hamish, I feel as though we left in a bad place, and I wanted to explain myself.”

He didn’t reply, just leaned back and beckoned Harry to start talking before crossing his arms and closing himself off.

“Hamish, I didn’t actually mean what I said when I referred to loving you as ‘silly.’ I figured if I said that though, that that’s what you would have wanted to hear. Your my best friend Hamish, you have been for three years now, and I do love you.” Harry looked in his lap, “Maybe… maybe more than I should.”

Hamish’s eyes widened, arms uncrossing as he leaned forward. “Harry. Do ye really mean that?”

Harry‘s eyes shot up to stare into Hamish’s, pinning him there with his gaze. “Yes, I do. I know being a homosexual is looked down upon in society, especially now with the AIDS crisis going on, and I know that Arthur, that Chester would be against it, but I can’t help but have feelings for you anyway.”

Hamish then got up and walked around his desk to cup Harry’s cheek. “Well, maybe I have feelings for you too.”

With that he leaned down to kiss Harry, and they both melted into each other. After a minute, Harry tucked his head into Hamish’s chest. “I’m glad. We’ll figure this out together, just like we do with everything else. We just need to keep it a secret for now. One day though, maybe we’ll be able to tell people. God, mutants and gay; could we really be hated any more by society?”

Hamish laughed, and Harry felt the vibrations in his chest. “Probably not. But we’ll be just fine Harry,” Hamish told him as he dropped a kiss into his hair, “We’ll be just fine.”

James was happy for his friends. He had watched Harry and Hamish dance around each other for a long time. They complimented each other and made for a wonderful couple. They hadn’t actually told James that they were together yet, but after 286 years, he could tell. And he could wait until they felt comfortable telling him.

Love was always a bittersweet thought for James. When he was young he had dreamed of getting out of the navy and settling down, having a family. His powers put an end to that thought though. Sure, over the years he took on lovers for a brief period of time, but he never stuck with anyone knowing that he would outlive them; that they would be old while he was still stuck in the body of a 25 year old. He had also yet to find anyone who he had actually wanted to be with romantically, but if something happened, it happened, and that was the mentality that James had stuck with for over two hundred years now.

As society became more homophobic as the years went on, James became increasingly angry and bitter with this toxic mentality. Honestly, why should it matter who people love? So long as no one is getting hurt, it shouldn’t be an issue. It was still more accepted than mutants, but not by much. It always seemed as though humans tried to find some reason to hate others.

Honestly, mutants should be the most accepting to those whose sexuality and gender deviate from the norm, but that’s not true. Chester King is a primary example. James was there when he was voted in as Arthur, and for the most part, he actually did a good job. The problem was that his mentalities never shifted, and after awhile, had become outdated. Chester was always someone that James thought probably did not want to be a mutant, wanted to blend in with the human aristocracy, and could do so with an ability that was not noticeable.

Shield projection was immensely helpful in being a Kingsman agent, and like all agents, was not a noticeable mutation since he was able to control it with his mind. Chester had made a wonderful Agent Tristan, and an ok Arthur. James just hoped that he would retire soon. He felt bad that in a business where you were supposed to be able to not worry about hiding, that his friends were doing just that, but with the hiding of their love rather than mutations.

It was only a matter of time before Chester found out about them though. Their affection for each other was one of Kingsman’s most poorly guided secrets, and if anyone looked relatively close, they would be able to see it too. For now though, James would wait until they felt comfortable enough to come out to him.

Two months later, James was in his office filling out some paperwork after his latest mission, because he could only avoid it so much before Merlin showed up to strongarm him into doing it. He looked up when Hamish walked in and sat down, a frown on his face.

“Hamish, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. But… we lost Percival. Merlin is having me handle the candidate trials this time. If I do well, he’s going to finally retire and give me the title of Merlin.”

James frowned. “That’s too bad, Percival was a great agent. But I suppose an early congratulations? You’ll do just fine, and I’m always around if you have any questions you know. I’ve been there for every trial, there’s not much I haven’t seen.”

“You’re right. It is just a lot. I’ve been training for awhile for this, but I guess I thought Merlin would be around longer.”

“He’s 83 Hamish.”

“And he could keep his job longer!”

James walked over to Hamish and put his hand on his shoulder. “I know it might be hard to accept, but take it from me; people come and go, and it sucks. But enjoy the time you have left together, and cherish the memories you have with them, especially in this line of work. You never know when the last time you’ll see someone is.”

Hamish sighed before replying, “I know. I’ll make him proud though. Thank you for this talk James. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Harry.”

“Any time Hamish. I’ll be there in a week for candidate trials!” He yelled as Hamish walked down the hall. Honestly, Hamish and Harry weren’t subtle at all.

As much as he hated it, James spent the next week getting all the paperwork he had backed up done. No use in coming back from training to old forms and mission reports that needed to be filled out. He was just finishing up when Harry walked into his office. James was laughing to himself as he thought _I just don’t know when I became the Kingsman therapist. We actually have staff for this._

Regardless, James was Harry and Hamish’s friend, and he would always help them when they needed it.

“Harry! What can I do for you?”

Harry was looking a little timid, which was very out of character for him, the usual posh peacock strutting about with no worries in the world. James put a gentle smile on his face and hoped that there was nothing wrong.

“Harry, are you ok? Is something wrong?”

James watched as Harry steeled himself before talking. “James, you have been a great friend to me, and I have been lying to you. Well, lying by omission. I feel like you are one of the most trustworthy friends I’ve ever had. Listen, I’m bollocksing this up.”

Harry took deep breath. “Hamish and I have been together for a few months now. Romantically.”

“Oh my god, Harry are you coming out to me?” James laughed. Harry frowned at that, but James continue, “I’ve known this for a while. You two are not as subtle as you like to think you are.”

James continued laughing as a look of relief flooded Harry’s face.

“And to think all this time we were worried about how you might react. I guess Hamish and I are a pair of fools.”

“Listen, I would never judge you two. In all my years, I’ve been with both men and women. I’ve seen homophobic attitudes grow worse. There is not too much that I can do about that, but know I’m always in your corner, and if Chester decides to be a dick about this if he learns about you two, well let’s just say he won’t like me when I’m angry.”

Harry looked relieved at that, and replied, “Thank you James. You are a good friend. I’m going to go talk to Hamish and let him know. Have fun in the trials!”

James sat at his desk, a smile on his face. His friends were finally getting everything sorted, and it was almost time to go help with the training of the next agent. Training never gets old for him, since it helps insure that Kingsman agents are the best of the best, and allows him to continue to legacy he helped begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlahad is here! Also get ready for Percival training next chapter :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the Percival trials!

As soon as James walked into the candidate dorms, he felt his heart stop. _That is the most beautiful man I have ever seen._

This revelation caused James’ brain to shut down completely, and he was unable to introduce himself before Hamish came in to introduce himself as Emrys and make the body bag speech. It was a good thing that he had heard this speech so many times, because all James could do was go through different ways of introducing himself to this gorgeous stranger.

As soon as Hamish left, James ‘casually’ chose the bed next to the other man. It was really throwing him off that he was so interested in the other candidate, and they hadn’t even said anything to each other yet! After filling out the information on his bag though, James went to remedy this.

He threw on his most charming smile and extended his hand. “James Spencer. A pleasure to meet you.”

The other man looked unimpressed, giving James an icy stare. He did shake his hand though, so James counted that as a win. “Alastair Morton.”

Alastair, what a lovely name. And his voice, like music to James’ ears. It was rich and velvety, and he could listen to it forever. The glasses he wore were not far off from the Kingsman issued ones, and they framed his deep chestnut brown eyes beautifully.

“Well Alastair, I’m sure were going to get along quite well!” Hopefully better if James could charm him.

Looking rather annoyed, he replied, “I don’t see why we would. We’re here for the same job, and I plan to get it.”

James smirked, replying to his challenge, “I assure you, I won’t be beaten to easily,” before throwing him a wink.

“I’m sure,” Alastair said before turning and walking away.

While he was disappointed that Alastair left, James could appreciate the view as he walked away. Yes, he could really appreciate the view.

\- - -

It was no surprise to Alastair when James sat next to him at dinner. Honestly, why this man wanted to be friends with him of all people was baffling. He was like an overeager puppy, and apparently had decided to give his undivided attention to him.

“Come on then! What’s your ability? You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” James said while wiggling his eyebrows.

Alastair sighed. Apparently the other man would not be letting this matter go anytime soon. He was interested in what his ability was though, and whether or not it would give him an advantage over him as a potential Kinsman agent.

He didn’t bother actually responding to James’ request though, instead making a quick circle motion with his hand opening up a small portal above his dinner plate. He reached in and pulled out a pen before letting the portal close. When he looked over at James, his eyes were wide with awe and his mouth open wide.

Coming back to himself, James excitedly said, “That’s amazing! What else can you keep in there? How big is it? How does it work?”

Alastair was actually in shock. No one had ever thought his ability was amazing before, had thought that it was something he needed to hide away. “Well, that’s only part of my ability. For that part, I am opening up a ‘door’ to pocket of space only I can access. I use it for storing things I would not want to lose and so I do not need to carry everything on my person.”

James nodded and waited for him to continue, chin resting on his hands and looking at him like he held the secrets of the universe. “The other part is creating a portal that allows for travel across distances. Say I wanted to go to London, I could just walk through and be in the city.”

“That’s one of the most amazing powers I’ve ever heard off! Alastair, you’re spectacular you know that?”

Alastair felt a blush creeping its way down his neck as he looked away. No one had ever cared about him this much; said so many nice things about him, or if they had said nice things, they weren’t genuine about it like James was. Maybe they could be friends. Alastair had never really had friends before, he’d never had the chance.

When he gave James a small smile, it looked like he had made his week with the way James beamed back at him. “Alright then, so what can you do?”

James winked before grabbing his steak knife. The closer to his wrist that James brought the knife, the more fear he felt flood his body. “James, wai-”

He didn’t even finish as James brought the knife down and sliced a deep line through his wrist. But seconds later, Alastair watched as the wound healed itself. He knew he shouldn’t have been worried since James was showing him his ability, but the thought of the other self harming made him uncomfortable. Made him wonder how many times that James may have done that just to show off his powers.

Alastair scolded himself mentally, he shouldn’t be this worried about someone he just met. They were competing for a job. Looking around at the table, no one else had noticed this display since they were all showing off their own powers, and it was fine by him if no one noticed him and James’.

As the training went on, Alastair could feel himself opening up to James more and more, and no matter how much he told himself that it would only lead to trouble, he could do nothing to stop it.

It did not help keep James away when his new greyhound and James’ borzoi decided to be best friends. This delighted James to no end though when he had talked with him about going on runs with their dogs since they both were breeds that needed lots of exercise.

It was late one night after sniper testing when James sat on his bed and motioned for him to follow. Alastair quickly checked that their dogs were asleep before getting out of bed. Unsure of where they were going, Alastair followed him through the Kingsman complex until they ended up on the roof.

Once up there, James patted the area next to him as he laid down, and Alastair joined him.

“James, not that this isn’t a nice view of the night sky, but why are we up here?”

“I wanted to spend time with you,” James replied, turning his head towards him while smiling. “And I wanted to see you away from Emrys’ watchful eye.”

“You do know he will see that we snuck out right?”

“Details, Alastair, details.”

He rolled his eyes, but turned his attention back towards the stars. “It is beautiful out here tonight. How did you even know how to get here?”

James just hummed and brushed off the question. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself. I feel like I still barely know you.”

Confused, Alastair asked, “What do you want to know?” This was a big step for him, but after spending so much time with James in training and going for runs with just them and their dogs, they had grown closer. Opening up to James indicated that he was done trying to stop their friendship from happening. Somewhere along the way he had begun to really care about James, and in self-reflections, had realized that he wanted to care about James.

“Hmmm, tell me about your family, you haven’t mentioned them since you’ve been here.”

“My… family.”

“Yes!”

His family. His abusers. The people that ignored his existence until it was convenient for them, and that was before finding out he was a mutant.

“James, please.” Alastair said, looking into James eyes. He didn’t know what James saw in them, but his face dropped, concern flooding it.

Both of them sitting up now, James placed his hand on top of Alastair’s. “Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s ok you know.”

Alastair drew in a deep breathe, steadying himself. James had been nothing but kind and caring towards him. Had treated him as an equal. His presence was comforting, and Alastair was being honest with himself, James was tearing down all the walls that he had ever put up, and he was thankful for that. Thankful for someone who wanted to know the real Alastair, and that alone allowed him to care for someone in a way he had never done before, to want to care about him.

“No, it’s ok. It’s tough, but I trust you James. More than anyone else in my life.”

James looked startled by that, but after seeing Alastair not pull his hand away, he scooched his way closer until their sides were flush. Alastair decided to take a risk. He put his head on James shoulders, and began to tell him about his life, and how he grew up. If he didn’t want to stay friends after hearing this, then it wouldn’t be different from any other disappointment in his life. But he knew if James didn’t accept him, he would break, because James is the first person that he wants to let in completely.

“My parents have never really cared about me, not really. I am their second born son, the one that never could quite live up to the expectations of my older brother. My parents are also two people that never really loved each other, and married out of nothing but convenience. I was quiet growing up, knowing to avoid them lest I be yelled at. In school, I was the same. And being quiet isn’t exactly the way to make friends. I was pretty young when I figured out my powers. I was eight when my parents forgot about me and left me in a store. I just wanted to go home so badly, James. I found that when I concentrate hard enough, I saw a doorway to my room appear, so I went through. Then I was in my room. And my parents never knew that they didn’t bring me home themselves.”

“Even with this newfound ability that I could use to escape, I could never leave. I had nowhere to go. My brother was always kind to me, but he had moved out by the time I was in high school and got married. Sam and his wife are nice, but they didn’t have the money to support me at the time, so I stayed. I avoided everyone. Even if I was good in school, it did not matter since teachers never noticed me. As soon as I was old enough to watch myself, my parents were never home, always away on vacation. That was the best time, since they weren’t there to yell at me and I didn’t need to hide from them. It was also those times when I practiced my ability and learned its limitations. Not long after getting out of school, I joined up in the military to get away from home, and then Kingsman founded me a little while after. So now, here I am.”

James turned to Alastair who he had cuddled into his chest at this point. “You’re a wonderful person, Alastair. You’re parents may not have cared about you, seen the beautiful man you’ve become, but I have. I’m honored that you’ve shared this with me, Alastair. Truly.”

Alastair watched as James took his hand that he was still holding and placed a chaste kiss across the knuckles. He smiled at that, thankful that James Spencer had wanted to become his friend, to get to know the real him in a way no one else ever had. And judging from the fact that he kissed his hand, maybe James wanted to be more than friends. And maybe, Alastair was ok with that if the way his heart melted at the kiss was any indication.

\- - -

James had gone on the ‘honeypot’ test many times. This is the first time that he ever went ‘off script’ as it were. As the first time he was entirely in charge of candidate training, Emrys was not pleased he was doing so and was not hiding it.

In his ear James could hear him yelling, “James, what the bloody _fuck_ do you think you’re doing? You need to make sure that Alastair, Derek, and Michael all get drugged while trying to seduce the target.”

James just ignored him as he dragged Alastair to the dance floor who was confused since this was not part of their mission.

“James what are you doing? We’re not going to be able to seduce the target. We need to complete the mission.”

“Just dance with me Alastair, he will see us and become jealous, and from there one of us can seduce him. Don’t worry about it.”

Alastair did give him a look that said he wasn’t buying what James was trying to sell him, but nonetheless went with him to the dance floor.

James heard Emrys still telling him to get back on track but ignored him and held his hand out for Alastair to take. Bamboleo started to play as they took the floor, and James was thankful for the missions he had in Spain where he learned a lot of his dance skills.

What surprised him was that Alastair was able to keep pace with him just fine, and looked like he was having fun dancing, smirking at James’ surprised face when he was able to keep in step with him. James hadn’t taken Alastair for a dancer, but he was glad he was. As the music got faster, James’ visioned narrowed until the only thing that was Alastair’s smiling face as they danced. Emrys wasn’t talking in his ear anymore, and the other patrons had stopped their dancing to watch them. Nothing else mattered in that moment, it was just the two of them in complete synchronization.

When the music stopped, the other people at the club clapped for them. James just laughed as he and Alastair walked back to where they were sitting to wait to see if the target approached after their display.

Once they sat down, James smiled and said, “You never said that you knew how to dance!”

“Well, my parents didn’t want me around, so there were years when they just sent me to dance lessons at a studio near where I lived. The more I was out of their hair the better. I did enjoy dance though. One summer in high school, my dance teacher recommended a summer program, and my parents were quick to agree to send me since it would get me out of the house for most of the summer. It was the best summer I’d had.”

“Well, if you ever want to dance with me, don’t hesitate to ask. I’d like to think I’ve gotten good at a little bit of every kind of dancing over the years.”

“So did you go to dance lessons then?”

“No just picked up some moves here and there.”

“I’m surprised, you’re not that old and it takes awhile to get as good as you were tonight.”

James just smiled and excused himself to grab them some drinks. Once he turned around, he frowned. Alastair was a little to perceptive, and it wouldn’t do to have him suspect he wasn’t exactly who he thought he was until he got the position at Kingsman. As per Emrys’ request from wasting so much time, he popped in a pill to knock Alastair out and brought it back to him. He felt bad about drugging him, but hopefully he would understand later.

When watching him take the train test, James was pleased to see that he didn’t even talk. Both James and Emrys were happy that all of the candidates passed the train test, ensuring their loyalty to Kingsman even if they didn’t get the job. When it came to shooting the dog, Michael had to leave, and it was down to Alastair and Derek as the real candidates. This meant that they would do two field tests where a candidate was dropped each time.

James would be the ‘first’ to go, since he was not the one being tested. He acted slower than he should have in the situation, and Emrys ‘dismissed’ him. Alastair pulled him aside before he could walk away and thanked him for being a wonderful friend and promising to write before pulling him into a hug. James melted into it, his body flooded with warmth and a content smile on his face.

James eyes watered as he walked off, his heart full. If Alastair got the job, he would be pleasantly surprised when James explained that he wasn’t actually going anywhere.

The final test ended up being infiltrating an art gala and taking out a con-woman who was attempting to sell a fake piece. James watched as Alastair worked the room, slowly getting nearer the con-woman. He saw Derek doing the same thing, and judging by the pace at which they were moving, would get to the woman at the same time.

For the first time, James became nervous for Alastair since they were both attempting to flirt with the woman to drag her away. Alastair was not the most social person, and Derek had done exceedingly well during the honeypot training and classes. Whoever the woman chose would likely become the next Percival, and James watched sadly as she walked off with Derek.

It felt as if he was punched in the gut. Alastair followed them discreetly though, and waited as backup for Derek near the room they had gone into.

Hamish looked over at James and frowned, sympathy written over his face. “I’m sorry James. I thought it would be Alastair too. It’s been a long time since you were happy with someone like this, hasn’t it?”

James looked away as he replied, “I’ve never actually felt like this Hamish. After all of these years, I think this may be the first time I’ve actually fallen in love, and now he is going to leave.”

“Come on James, it’s not like we’re going to pass up the opportunity to keep him in Kingsman. There’s a place for him as a handler; he’s done an excellent job so far and would be a great asset to my team.”

As he looked at Hamish, eyes wide, all he could reply was, “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

Hamish slapped his hand against his face and dragged it downwards. “ _James._ You helped invent that protocol. You were there. _You made the suggestion.”_

James had the decency to look ashamed, but nonetheless only gave a small, “oops,” before he and Hamish returned their attention to the two trainees.

Hamish, still looking exasperated at dealing with James raised an eyebrow when he noticed that Derek was still in there with the woman. “What on earth is he doing? He just needs to shoot her, this isn’t actually a honeypot.”

After waiting ten minutes, Alastair was starting to get bored. He looked up though when Derek opened the door and walked out mumbling, “I can’t kill her, I just can’t do it.”

Alastair watched him leave for a moment before walking in there and finishing the job himself. He was not going to blow this opportunity, and felt a huge wave of relief go through him. He may not be good at seduction, but he was confident in his ability to quickly and quietly take someone out.

By the time they got back to the estate to debrief, Derek looked downright depressed, and while Alastair felt bad for him, he was still relieved that he had made it. Everything he had gone through was worth it. The only bad part was that James wasn’t here to know that he had made it and to celebrate with him. But he couldn’t worry about that now, and kept his face neutral as he walked with Derek into a room where Emrys, Merlin, and Arthur were waiting for them.

After standing there for a moment, Arthur was the first to speak. “As I am sure you both know by now, Alastair, you have successfully completed training, congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now Derek, do you want to explain yourself?”

Alastair was surprised when Derek held eye contact with Arthur as he told him, “I apologize sir. It’s different in training when were are shooting targets. I’d never killed anyone before, and when it came down to it, I couldn’t. I’m sorry. Alastair, you are truly the best for the job.”

Emrys used the silence that followed Derek’s speech to speak. “Derek, you may not have been able to kill someone in cold blood, but not everyone can. You have still gained a great number of skills beyond your mutant abilities here, which is our goal during training, and if you would like I think that after some different training you could be a great handler. You have a keen eye and succeeded in every other aspect of agent training. Are you interested?”

Derek’s eyes lit up as he replied, “Yes Emrys, I am.”

Merlin finally spoke after quietly observing during the whole proceedings. “That is something that is going to change actually. Emrys, it is time for you to fully receive the title of Merlin. You have done a great job in the training of these candidates, and in every other aspect of working behind the scenes as it is. I am ready to retire.”

Alastair watched as the newly named Merlin shook hands with his predecessor before he walked off to collect his things and get his new retirement sorted out.

Arthur then turned to Hamish and said something strange. “I’ll let you deal with introducing Agent Lancelot then, I have a meeting with MI-6. I trust you can handle it?”

“Of course sir.”

“Very good,” he replied as he exited leaving only Hamish, Alastair, and Derek standing there.

Grinning at Alastair, Hamish began, “Gentleman, it is my great pleasure to let you know that it was not actually the position of Lancelot that you were competing for, but rather the position of Agent Percival.” Alastair became even more confused as he winked and continued, “Let me introduce you to the real Agent Lancelot,” gesturing to the door Arthur had exited from.

Alastair felt his heart stop when he saw the door open and James walk in.

He didn’t have to worry about leaving his friend behind.

He was right there, giving Alastair a smile that warmed him to the tips of his toes.

When James walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug with a congratulations whispered into his ear, Alastair felt like he was finally coming home. Felt as though he had found a home right there in James arms, and he never wanted to leave.

After a moment, as Alastair looked up James was right there smiling like he was looking at the most precious thing in the universe. It wasn’t even something that he processed that he was doing, it was more like an out of body experience as his face drew closer to James’, and suddenly they were kissing. Alastair felt James cradle his face and in response he threaded his fingers through James’ hair. Pulling apart after hearing Hamish clear his throat, Alastair pressed their foreheads together.

While he had been comfortable flying under the radar his whole life, Alastair was glad that James barged his way into his life, tore down all of his carefully built walls, and made him shine; because in this moment, Alastair felt loved unconditionally for the first time.

His parents didn’t love him, and while his brother did, he never bothered to get to know his younger brother beyond the mask that he put up to keep the world out. The world that wanted nothing to do with the real Alastair.

But James, he wanted the real Alastair. Loved the Alastair he found under the emotionless mask and behind all of the walls he put up to keep people out. If no one got in, he couldn’t be hurt. But James, he was worth hurting for, though he suspected he would not have to deal with that with the way James was looking into his eyes as though he had hung the moon and painted the sky just for him.

With one last quick kiss, James walked over to stand next to Hamish. Hamish, while glad for James, made sure to address the candidates to ensure their secrecy on this matter. “Alastair, while I feel like you won’t say anything, both you and Derek should not say anything about what just took place. If Arthur hears about this, there will be consequences. You are dismissed Derek, I have to talk with these two about something in private.”

Alastair was surprised when James whipped around after Derek closed the door behind him, fire burning in his eyes. He had never seen James actually angry. Play angry yes. Miffed during training for sure. But never in a proper rage.

“If that bloody wanker has an issue with this he can take it up with me himself. I will not deal with his homophobic attitude. He can keep his fucking comments to himself, and if he wants to say something, I have a lot of things to say right the fuck back.”

Hamish looked taken aback and tried to placate James and calm him down by switching to code names in a hope to take the personal issues James was having out of this and remind him of his job. “I understand and would like him to change his mind Agent Lancelot, but he is Arthur, and Arthur is in charge of the agency.” This only seemed to infuriate James more though, and Alastair was glad that he knew James didn’t have a destructive power with the way James whipped around and started to yell in Merlin’s face.

“My name is Admiral James Norrington. I was there the day Kingsman was founded, and have been here every day after. I am well aware that Chester King may be the current Arthur, but that is a title that I have passed over several times and could have if I wanted it. As a founding member, I hold more power here than he ever could. My portrait is on the wall of founders. _Not. Chester’s._ If I have finally found someone with whom I can be happy with, there is nothing in this world that he can do. We should not be forced to hide, Hamish. Not for who were are. I helped found this agency on that principal, and will not hide my love the same way I have had to hide my abilities for well over two hundred years. I know that the times and people have changed, I’ve been there and seen it. The world may hate who I am, but I am so far past caring at this point. I’m tired, and I just want to be happy and help make the world a better place. It’s what I’ve been trying to do since I was born, and God help me if I let Chester fucking King stand in my way. He can deal with it or I will personally see to it that he enjoys a nice long stay in a box six feet under. Am I _fucking_ clear?”

Hamish looked proper terrified as he replied, “Crystal,” before quickly leaving.

James sighed, all of the fight leaving him, and looked at Alastair. “We have some things to talk about. Come with me.”

As Alastair followed him to the garden, he saw the anger draining out of James leaving behind an empty husk. As they sat on a bench, James looked at him and frowned.

“Alastair, do you know how old I am?”

“Well you did indicate that you are over two hundred.”

James smiled, thankful that Alastair apparently wasn’t going to demand answers out of him and was going to let him explain. He looked up and began to tell his story, from being born in 1703 to his current position as Agent Lancelot at Kingsman. He talked for well over an hour, and Alastair just listened. When James started to talk about the time when he had attempted to kill himself in every way he could think of, Alastair held his hand, let him squeeze it as he was brought back to the lowest point in his life.

“I just wanted it to end. There was no one left, and I had no purpose in living. I should have been long dead by then, but no, I was left to suffer. So I tried to end it. Nothing worked though. Not slitting my throat, not jumping off the roof, or even starvation. Sure I was weak, but I was still here.”

At this point James started to cry, and was grateful when Alastair held him through it, let him stain his siren suit that he didn’t even have the chance to change out of yet. When James was finally done telling his story and is all cried out, Alastair had James show him where he lived so they could take a shower and go to bed.

“Lead the way, and we’re going to go to your house, shower, and sleep. It has been a long day, and we both need it. We’ll talk to Merlin and Arthur tomorrow, and figure everything out.”

As he went to bed that night, James was more comfortable that he had been in years. When Alastair snuggled up behind him, wrapped his arms around him and interlacing their fingers, and then dropped a kiss into his hair, James may have well have died and gone to heaven. _Alastair entering my life is the best thing to happen to me,_ he thought as he finally drifted away into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I had the story pre-written up to, but I hope there won't be too much difference in update times in the future. We'll see though, it's grad apps time and I'm slammed right now.


End file.
